Silver Clove
by JeweledSiamese
Summary: Basically this is my retelling of the 74th Hunger Games from Clove's point of view with a few alterations of my own.
1. The Silver Ring

**Hey guys, this is my first fan fiction! Since I loved Clove in the Hunger Games, I wrote this as the 74th Hunger Games from Clove's point of view. Please review!**

As I walked over to the corral of sixteen year old girls, I noticed how perfect they all looked. The girls, and boys, I supposed, of District 2 were born self-confident, and this led to many of them convinced they would be the one picked from the reaping ball. So they put their perfect clean swishy hair up, wore their very best clothes, and polished their faces to perfection, in anticipation of the moment they would ascend the steps to the stage and be broadcast to all of Panem.

I had to admit, even I had scrubbed my face and washed my hair thouroughly in the hopes that I would get picked. I was just as self-confident as any of them, but I felt like if I made a special effort, I would jinx it. Some other girl would be picked to go and I would be left here. So I didn't try too hard. I knew I was strong. Stronger than many of the others, in a place where the children were raised to be strong.

I knew that if I went home today without my name having been called, there would be nothing waiting for me there. Nothing but a disastrous falling apart house and a drunk deadbeat father who couldn't look at me without yelling or throwing a punch. I had considered more than a few times running away, but that would only get me caught and killed most likely. Whipped a few times, if I was lucky. But even so, I would just be sent home to someone who would rather I was dead.

If my name were called today one of two things would happen; I could win, have my own money, and leave my father in my past. Or I could be killed, which wouldn't matter to anyone least of all my father. I didn't have friends. Had no other family. There was me and only me. I watched from where I now stood in the crowd, one face among many, as our Capitol escort, Alyssinia Rettwin, trotted over to the microphone. Alyssinia's arrival always elicited excitement from the group, as we waited eagerly to hear who would go and who would stay behind.

"Hello, hello", she twittered into the microphone. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever _in your favor". Alyssinia was like a small bird, uncertain of her place on the stage, nervous as she stared out into the audience. I could sense from the way she rocked slightly on her ridiculously high heels that she would much rather be anywhere than in front of a crowd. Now we waited during the reciting of the history of the Hunger Games and the rebellion, impatiently.

When it was finished, Alyssinia walked to the large clear glass balls filled with paper slips, the girls' side, and spun it around several times before she felt they were sufficiently shuffled. She reached in and pulled one closed slip out, unfolded it, and then in her high pitchy voice read into the mic, "Clove Chaterly". I go into automatic mode. I stand and walk to the stage somehow, through actions that I don't feel are mine.

It's not till I look out at the audience it feels real. I'm going into the Hunger Games. It's what I wanted. I instinctively look for my father in the audience. I know he's there, everyone's required to be. I spot him, far in the back, but there he is. For once, he doesn't look drunk or angry or spiteful. He has no expression at all. But I know he knows I'm looking directly at him. And I want him to feel the fact that he'll most likely never see me again, dead or alive. If I win, I'm most certainly not going back to him.

As the applause of the crowd fades out and the disappointed looking girls dressed up in their finest clothes, slump or simply sit on the ground, Alyssinia teeters over to the boys' reaping ball. She repeats the process and this time comes up with another name. "Cato Helamor". A huge tall blonde guy stands and whoops as he comes up to the stage. I know how this works. We'll be allies, at least, at first, because the tributes from Districts 1,2, and 4 always are. The Careers. The ones who train for this their whole lives.

He certainly looks like he has, and I know that if I ever get caught in hand to hand combat with him, I wouldn't stand a chance. I'm short, not as tall as him but tall enough, and quick. And I have my knives. I trained for this, like everyone else does, in school with a trainer, and within the first session I ever had learned I was brilliant with a knife. I can aim wherever I want, and it always finds its mark.

We shake hands, and I make my face into a mask pure of expression. I survey him, and wonder if he has any special weaponry skills. He has no shortage of muscles, but I've seen a few boys at school larger than him. Still, I'm sure he'd have no trouble snapping my neck without a second glance. I wouldn't have any trouble throwing one of my knifes into his heart either. The basis of the Hunger Games is no one is your friend, not truly. If it came down to you and your best friend, I'm sure one of you would be dead soon enough.

There has to be a victor, making all alliances temporary. And Cato's handsome, more than handsome enough to win a lot of sponsors. I'm not a fool, I think as we walk to the Justice Building to say our goodbyes to our family and friends. I know I'm not beautiful at first sight like a lot of other girls. I have long dark brown hair and green eyes, which are fine, but my features are sharp and when I look in the mirror it's like there's something lingering in the back of my eyes. Wariness, maybe, suspiciousness. Like I'm constantly on watch for people who want to hurt me. Without it I suppose I would be far prettier.

If I want sponsors, since I can't rely on perfect looks, I'm going to have to have a good personality, which should be a challenge, and an impressive score in training, which should be easy. I shoot a Peacekeeper a deadly glare as he shoves me into a room in the Justice Building. I try to sit on the overstuffed red velvet couch, but I feel adrenaline in my veins and can't sit still, so I take to wandering about the room, until the door opens again and my father's thrown in. I say nothing for a moment, waiting for him to start screaming at me about how stupid I am to have gotten myself in the Games, but he says nothing.

I wait and wait, but still we just stare at each other. "WELL?" I ask, finally. "There must have been some reason why you actually came to say goodbye. You didn't have to, you know". "I know", is all he says. But the silence that follows isn't the ominous silence that comes before another screaming match or a blow across the face. It's more of one of apology. Like he's sorry he couldn't say more to me. Eventually, the Peacekeepers come back, and before he walks out he turns, tosses me something, and says, "Good luck". I open my hand to find a silver ring, shaped to look like a vine with leaves that had curled around your finger when you put it on.

It was pretty in a different way than the bejeweled rings and necklaces of the richer families in town, and it wasn't the most striking thing in the world, but it possessed a sort of simple beauty. After that, I'm left alone for a while before they come back to bring me to the train. There are hordes of people cheering as we climb onto the sleek silver train, but I don't smile or wink like Cato does. I'm confident, sure, but these people aren't cheering for me. They're cheering for the fact that they might have another District 2 winner this year.


	2. Alliance

On the train I'm shown to a compartment with a sumptuous bed, a dresser full of clothes, and a huge full length mirror. Alyssinia, in a quavering voice, told me I could change if I wanted to. I rolled my eyes, and shut the door in her face. I didn't care about being rude to people as long as I was smart when the situation called for it.

But I did decide to rummage through the clothes in the drawers, to see if there were anything else I'd rather wear. Finding nothing, I decided to stick with my current outfit of skinny black pants, clean white v-neck shirt and black boots, but I yanked my hair out of its pulled back bun and shook it out around my face. I couldn't stand to have those pins in my head any longer.

There was nothing left for me in my room so I pushed open the heavy door and wandered aimlessly around the train. There were a few other sleeping compartments with doors open, all empty. But there were a few more with doors closed, probably where Alyssinia, the mentors, and Cato were. I kept walking. I walked and walked until I reached the end of the train.

There was a small window there, that you could see out the back to. It was a strange sensation, feeling like you were shooting backward. I turned the right way forward again and ran smack into someone who didn't even move. "OW!" I said, shoving him with both arms, but barely making Cato falter. "Sorry", he smirked looking not at all like he meant. "What do you want?" I asked, leaning back against the side wall of the train. "Alyissinia came and told me to tell you there's food for dinner in the dining car". "It's a bit obvious that food would be in the dining car", I said, doing my signature sarcastic eye roll, and again unsuccessfully trying to push him aside so I could get to said dining car.

Move!" I yelled. He raised his eyebrows and laughed. I slammed my foot still in the black boot, into his instep, hard. To his credit, he hardly muttered a, "Shit", but I could tell it hurt more than he let on as I easily pushed past him and down to the dining room.

Inside, Alyssinia was seated at a glass table, a wine glass of water in front of her, which struck me as a bit of an oxymoron. Seated with her were our mentors, who I recognized from previous years. The first, a woman named Calesse, was not nearly as old as some of the mentors, only twenty-five, and she still looked young and beautiful. I don't remember her Games very well, I was only six when they'd broadcasted them.

But I could imagine it would have been very easy for her to get sponsors through her looks alone. District 2 had winners younger than her, but they preferred to let the more experienced mentors coach tributes. Only victors twenty-four and above were allowed to mentor in District 2. Our other mentor, Algerion, was older, in his forties somewhere, his hair already turning slightly silver, from its natural black. His Games had been on years before I was born, and I had no idea how he had won.

"Oh, Clove. This is Algerion and Calesse, your mentors", Alyssinia whispered. "I know", was all I said in response. I grabbed a plate and scooped heaps of food onto my plate. Despite my father's lack of work ethic, we never went hungry, and I was used to having food, something I figured might change in the arena. I may as well get food while I still have ready access to it.

"Clove", Calesse said, extending her hand, which I noticed wore many gold rings. My silver one seemed plain and simple in comparison. I shook it briefly before looking up to see Cato enter. To my satisfaction, I noticed he still had a very slight limp. I held back a laugh. Technically, fighting among the tributes before the Games started wasn't allowed, and while I didn't think any of them would care, or if they did not say anything, but I'd rather not have anyone know about it.

"What happened to you, boy?" Algerion spoke for the first time, staring pointedly at Cato's leg. "Accidentally hit the doorframe", was all he would say. But I could tell from the way Algerion caught my gaze that he knew it probably wasn't an accident. I grabbed a glass of water and sipped so I could avoid looking at him. "So, we should discuss strategies", Calesse said, sounding as inexperienced as she was at this.

"The first obvious question is, do you want to work together as Careers?" Algerion asked. I turned to look at Cato. Yeah, he was obnoxious, but I would much rather be with him than against him. The Careers were typically winners, and I wanted to be a winner. Of course, the alliances never lasted forever, but being in the Careers would be easier than being on my own and whenever we did seperate, I'd most likely only have to kill two or three of them to be victor. Easy enough.

But did Cato want to be one too? Well, of course he would be a Career but did he want to be a Career with me? So far he'd treated me like someone who had no idea what she was doing and just that made me want to prove him wrong by throwing a knife in his back.

But, suprisingly, he nodded. And so I said, "Yes". "That's the easy part then. When you get to the Capitol you're going to want to befriend the tributes from 1 and 4 whoever they are, and anyone else who looks strong enough, quick enough, or skilled enough", and with that Algerion, leaned back in his chair as if to say, "That's enough for now".

After I finished eating I was on my way back to my room, when I pushed open a door to find a room filled with nothing but soft chairs and a huge window along one wall. The whole wall was completely made of glass. I sank down into one of the chairs and watched the outside forests race by.

What district we were in now, I didn't know. I didn't know how much time passed before Cato entered the room saying, "Algerion told us to watch the reapings", and flipping on the television on one wall of the room. I reluctantly turned away from my window and looked toward the television as the anthem played and Claudius Templesmith started to announce the names.

In District 1, there was a gorgeous girl with blonde hair and clear blue eyes that I couldn't help scoffing at as she enthusiastically ascended the stairs. She looked exactly like all of the other girls who were so ready to be picked. I caught Cato smirk at me when I did so. "What?" I asked him. "Why did you laugh at her? Aren't they supposed to be our allies?" he asked raising an eyebrow. I thought about telling him to get the hell out and watch it somewhere else, but then decided to tell him the truth.

"She looks just like every other blonde airhead in our district who was just waiting for the chance to be picked", I said as I watched our own reaping progress. "And you didn't?" "Of course I did. But at least I had a reason for wanting it, or at least more than she has".

"And what was that?" he counters, staring directly at me. I looked away. "Like I said, at least I had one, even if I don't share it with you". District 3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10, and 11 all fly by without much notice. It's not until District 12 comes up that I start paying attention. A twelve year old blonde girl was picked, but as she starts for the stage, an older girl, about my age, volunteers. Her sister.

It's unusual for those non-Career districts to have volunteers. Not even family usually steps up to take the place of people they love. Still the girl looks on the wrong side of too thin and I'm sure she won't be much of an issue. The boy from 12, a strong-looking blonde, might pose more of a challenge, but aside from the huge boy from 11 none look too threatening.

I'm about to get up and leave when a thought enters my head. "Why did you agree to team up with me?" I ask him. Cato shrugs. "Does it matter?" "As long as it's not because the second we get in the arena you're going to try to kill me, it doesn't". "I promise I'll wait until at least the third day to try and kill you", he says, but he says it with a bit of a laugh in his eyes. I pause before leaving. "Then I promise the same".


	3. The Opening Ceremonies

I wake up the next day to find the train had slowed. We were in the Capitol. I pulled myself out of bed, hardly bothering to glance in the mirror. I'd fallen asleep easily enough, but hadn't bothered to change out of clothes from the day before. I made my way out of my room to the hallway so I could look through the windows.

The colorful citizens of the Capitol were gathered outside the station, yelling and cheering for whichever tributes this train might hold. When they saw my face in the window, they cheered and screamed louder than before. I was tempted to leave, to ignore them, but I knew that if I wanted to get the good sponsors I'd have to present myself differently. So I gave a slight wave, not much, but enough to get them even more excited.

"Clove! We're, we're leaving the train now. To go to the Remake Center", Alyssinia stammered as she walked up to me. "Fine", I said shoving past her. I wasn't going to be nice if I didn't have to be. Outside the train, the others were already waiting for us and Calesse eyed me.

I could imagine I probably didn't look very impressive, my hair all disheveled and in the same slightly dirty clothes as yesterday. I didn't care very much. These people would see me look far worse by the time the Games were over. We were swept past the Capitol people, and pushed into the building that housed the Remake Center.

I was handed over there to the many technicians there, forced to have every last bit of hair ripped from body, every scar I'd ever acquired wiped away with concealer, and every last flaw taken away or at least hidden from view. My finger and toe nails were shaped into perfect ovals, the dirt scraped out from underneath the nail. My hair was washed and cut slightly and blown-dry.

When it was all over, they sent me into another room, where I'd meet my stylist. I looked at myself in the glass reflection of the window. Different. I looked the same as I always had really, but it was like they'd made me into the best possible version of myself. Pretty, almost, or I would have been. But that look still lingered in my eyes. That thing that made me inaccessible to people. The door opened.

My stylist was a woman, Maraine, I'd heard her called by the technicians. She had the Capitol look, most definitely. Bright blue hair curled in long ringlets, tinged the slightest blonde at the ends. Her lips were painted a soft purple, and her cheeks were inlaid with gems of the same color. She pursed her purple lips at me, and I could tell she was taking me in the same way I was with her. "Hmmm. There's definitely something to work with here, but..", she stopped as she reached out and tilted my face up.

I pulled it away after a second. "Darling, you could be quite pretty if you could make your eyes do something different", Maraine sighed. "You're not going to get sponsors looking like you might want to cut their throats. Even so, I can work with this". I stared back at her with contempt. But I had to admire the fact that she'd pointed out my eyes. No one ever did.

I was taken to the Training Center, also the place that housed the tributes during their brief stay at the Capitol. Our floor wasn't very high up, only the second, as each numbered floor of the building belonged the district with the same number. I ignored Alyssinia's quiet dialogue about the building and our floor and when dinner was. I walked straight past them all and found a bedroom. I needed to have silence for a minute.

The room was large. A huge bed piled with pillows. A giant television on the wall. Extra chairs around a big wooden desk. And a window, much like the one on the train, made entirely of glass. It felt like the people who had made this room had taken regular objects and made them three times bigger. Either that or I'd shrunk. I pulled over one of the armchairs and sat down on the soft satiny seat to face the window.

The Capitol seemed somehow smaller than I'd imagined. It was an impressive city, yes, with towering hundred-story buildings made entirely of glass and silver, but those buildings were all confined to one space. In the distance I could see the faint outlines of mountains as the sky grew darker.

As my room grew darker, I grew more tired, until eventually I fell asleep in the large chair. I woke to a rapping on my door. "What?" I called, annoyed at being woken. Maraine and her team of preps strode in. "It's time to get you ready for the opening ceremonies", she ordered pointing to the bathroom. I heaved a sigh loud enough so she would hear.

They went through a more detailed process of the same routine I'd had to go through earlier. My nails were painted a grey with a slight shimmer that you could only see every so often. My hair was brushed through and curled at the ends, dusted with a similar shimmery powder. My feet were shoved into black slipper like shoes, that tied with a strap at the ankle. And my dress. The was dress wasn't especially long, it went down to my knees.

It had a kind of flouncy black skirt with a high waist and a silver bodice. There were smooth stones inlaid right where the bodice met the skirt along the waistline. I think all this was supposed to remind the Capitol audience that we were the masonry district, thus the stones and dark colors.

One of the prep team approached with a vial of black dust another with a tube. In minutes my face had been drastically changed. My eyes were now shaded with black eyeshadow and eyeliner. My lips were a deep dark crimson red. Finally they pulled back to let me see myself in the mirror.

I didn't make any noise though I wanted to. I looked so...different. At least five years older than my sixteen year old self. I looked some sort of war goddess. And for once, the hunted look in my eyes didn't make a difference. In fact, it worked with the look Maraine had created for me.

She approached from where she stood in the corner now, and looked me up and down. "You look beautiful, darling", was all she said. I said nothing. Did I? I had never once looked in the mirror and thought anything about my appearance. But this all felt nothing like me. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. Calesse stepped in. "Wonderful job, Maraine. You look gorgeous, Clove".

Too quickly, I was ushered out of the room and down the elevator, to the stables where they kept the chariots and horses. They brought me over to what I presumed was our chariot. The chariot itself was made entirely of pure silver, crafted beautifully. The horses hitched to it were charcoal black with matching silver leads.

Cato already stood in the chariot and Algerion was beside him standing on the ground. Cato was dressed to match me in a full bodysuit made of thick black material, a black knight to my dark goddess. Algerion looked up and nodded approvingly. "I see you found her an angle". I rolled my eyes.

It was just a lot of makeup and a fancy dress and both were coming straight off after the ceremonies. I climbed aboard the chariot, ignoring Cato's offered hand. "I have it thanks", I said sarcastically as I pulled myself up. We waited for District 1's chariot to go; the boy and girl were both dressed all in white sparkling clothes adorned with diamonds. The perfect contrast to us.

"Is something psychologically wrong with you?" I asked when I saw Cato staring at me. "You better hope not, if we're going to be allies", was all he'd say. "Something I'm regretting agreeing too more and more every minute", I retorted. "Not going to get many sponsors if you talk to them the way you talk to me", Cato said.

I kind of wished I hadn't been so bitchy then. He WAS going to be my ally and yelling at him every two seconds probably wasn't going to raise his opinion of me. But I wouldn't apologize.

Our chariot started to move then, pulled forward by the black stallions. The Capitol gasped when they saw us and I had to admit, we were an impressive sight. I caught a glimpse of us on the huge screens on the sides of the street and we looked evenly matched enough, more than I could say for the ridiculously huge boy and tiny girl from 11.

But something that I liked about our costumes was that I didn't have to pretend to smile and wave. I could do nothing and the costume would work for itself. Smiling would have just looked ridiculous with the way the costume was. Cato was smirking though which worked. I needed to play this right so that I could win sponsors. So I put a sly look on my face, something that projected well with my image on the huge screens. I looked like a goddess of chaos, someone who was just entirely amused with what was going on around her.

Our chariot stopped at the foot of President Snow's mansion and waited for the rest of the chariots to finish their ride. Most weren't too interesting. The trees from 7. The fishermen from 4. The livestock keepers from 10. Not until 12 came out did the audience gasp even louder than they had for us. The two tributes had been lit on fire. And it did look amazing, streams of fire flying out from their capes as the chariot trotted on. Impressive.

But that only meant less attention taken away from us and more given to them. They were playing to the crowd, catching kisses, waving, huge smiles on their faces. For the boy it looked almost natural, but for the girl it looked forced, like someone had told her to act nice to the crowd and she didn't know how to do it right. How I would have looked if I'd been forced to play to the crowd.

We waited there for a while, for the reading of President Snow's speech and then to drive off back to the Training Center. Tomorrow we would start our training. I didn't need any practice with my knives, I would already be the best at that. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have practice in the other areas too. What if they didn't put in knives among the available weapons in the arena? I knew how to use other weapons too, spear tossing was easy enough, like throwing a longer knife, and I was alright with a bow and arrow. But I'd need every bit of practice I could get with those weapons in order to be better than the others.

We soared back up the elevator and onto our floor. "Good night", Alyssinia whispered. The other two exchanged good nights as well, to us and their fellow mentor. "Good night", Cato mimicked sarcastically. "Good night", I sarcastically mimicked back.


	4. Training

I was shaken out of a dreamless sleep the next morning by Algerion. "Get up", he commanded. "Why?" I moaned, still tired. "Training. If you aren't up in the next five seconds, I'll be more than happy to toss this bucket of ice water on you". I fluttered my eyes open and yanked myself out of bed. "Training clothes are in the closet", he yelled over his shoulder. I could feel myself falling asleep standing up. And that wouldn't look good to the other tributes. I had to be alert. No one was going to mark me as a weakling.

I walked into the bathroom and splashed some water onto my face. That's better. I grabbed the black shirt and pants with grey and red piping from the closet and threw them on. I pulled my hair away from my face and inspected it. There were still some signs of makeup from the night before, but finding only a tiny bit of smudged eyeliner, I decided to leave it. I wasn't in the mood to make an effort this morning.

I wandered through to the living room to find Algerion and Calesse waiting for me. Alyssinia was nowhere to be seen. Probably still asleep. I fell down on the couch next to theirs and tried to keep myself from falling back asleep. A sharp clap startles me. "Today is important", Calesse says. "Finally", Algerion sighs as Cato walks in dressed in clothing similar to mine in color.

"Find the other tributes from 1 and 4, offer the alliance. And watch the others closely. Don't write them off simply because they don't look like much. They may have talents that could come of use to you", he finishes his speech and sends us down in the elevator.

"I'll talk to 1, you take 4", I say to him. He shrugs and nods in a patronizing way. That infuriates me, but I hold back on saying anything. I had told myself I'd be nicer. And I would be. The elevator doors open onto the sub-basement floor of the building. A gym-like area is set up with many stations. Edible and non-edible plants. Climbing ropes. Target practice, with bows, spears, and to my pleasure, knives.

A woman, the Head Trainer, Atala, talks a bit about the proper ways to use the equipment, the rules, and reminds us all sternly, "No fighting". Then she sends us on our way.

I hold back for a bit from talking to the District Ones. I want to make sure they're skilled enough to be Careers. I watch as the male tribute heads to the target practice area and picks up a spear. He throws at the human shaped target. Perfectly centered in the heart area. I turn to the beautiful blonde girl. I have my doubts about her, perfect looking as she is. She was using the bow and arrows and managed to shoot one just slightly off to the side of the bulls-eye. Good enough I supposed.

"District 1, right?" I asked as I approached. "Yeah. I'm Marvel", said the tall brunette boy. "Clove. And you are?" I asked the girl. "Glimmer". I barely held in a laugh at the idiotic name. But it was so fitting with her looks. They agreed to the alliance, but I knew they were wary about me. I had to admit, I didn't look like much. I was shorter than them, not tiny, but still a bit smaller. I wasn't as muscley.

But I knew I could be impressive when I wanted to be. I picked up two short-length knives with serrated edges and aimed at one of the human shaped targets. _Bam, bam. _One after the other, straight into the heart. Easy. I turned and saw Cato with two swords, decapitating another of the human targets, across the room. The District Fours were watching him with envy, and I saw Glimmer and Marvel staring at him too. Glimmer turned to me and raised her eyebrows, as if wondering how I had gotten in to the Careers.

Before I could stop myself, I'd picked up a knife and thrown it across the room straight into the target over the human's heart. Cato paused and turned. I stared back. Glimmer and Marvel looked impressed. Good. I wasn't just being kept around for them to laugh at. I could kill her in one throw. I kept practicing with my knives after that, until I figured I should take Algerion's advice and see if anyone else is good enough for the Careers. I wander over to the edible plants section and briefly survey the list of plants okay to eat before turning my attention to the girl and boy from District 12.

They're at the knot tying station, possibly the most boring one of all. But they stick together, I notice, as they move on to a new station. Unusual. It's typically only the Careers who stick together. But neither of them seem to possess any real skill at anything they try, so I move on. The hulking boy from 11 is throwing hundred pound weights around like they're nothing. He might be a good addition, but as he's not a traditional Career who knows how long it would be before he'd turn on us?

Still, I decide to mention it to Cato and our mentors later. There's his district partner, the tiny brown girl. She'd never last a second with us. I'll be surprised if she makes it through the first day. A girl from 5 with bright red hair has taken my place at the edible plants area. She gives the correct answer to every question the instructor quizzes her on. Most of the tributes around the widespread room just looked scared, like they've given up fighting already. I won't go down without a fight. I plan to win. All of the Careers eat lunch together, including the District Fours, whose names I've yet to learn.

Though we haven't even gone into the arena yet, it's somewhat understood between them all that Cato is our unofficial leader. I'm skeptical of this, but then again, I'm skeptical of Cato in general. I don't say anything though. It makes sense, I suppose. He's the tallest, strongest, good with a sword. Still, I think, I'm far better with my knives then he is with that sword. But it's delusional to think anyone would rather follow me than him. I don't measure up in any categories except knife-throwing and smarts, and the latter won't make any difference to them.

I endure the elevator ride back up to the second floor in silence. There's not much to say really. At dinner that evening, which we eat in the spacious dining room, Calesse asks, "Did you get them?" I nod between mouthfuls of hot steamy soup. "Anyone else catch your eye?" Algerion says, wanting to know if his advice was right. "No", Cato starts, but I stop him. "The boy from 11. He's more than strong enough", I answer instead.

I thought about the girl from 5, but ruled her out. It's strength and skill that matter here, and while she's plenty smart enough, she wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest. Algerion nods, in approval. "At least _someone _took my advice", he says with a pointed look at Cato. I smirk at him. He narrows his eyes at me. I roll mine and look away.


	5. The Interview

The next few days are uneventful. We train. I practice more with the bow and arrow and spear throwing. I learn more about plants, boring but useful. I visit every station in the gym and learn I'm good at climbing the rope ladder that stretches from the floor to the high ceiling. I can scurry up it in a minute and a half, the instructor tells me.

The Careers become friends, almost, laughing, joking at lunch. But tonight is the night of the Gamemakers' assessment. They'll have knives there, Algerion tells me. Use them and impress them. That's the extent of his advice.

Cato and I travel down in the elevator together. When the two of us are alone together it seems like there's never much to say. With the others, at the lunch table, it's easy to forget we'll be thrown into an arena and told to kill each other in two short days. But when its Cato and I together, that's all I think about. Ways to evade, ways to defend, ways to kill. Ways to protect myself.

We're deposited on the bottom floor and I walk in to the room just as the boy from 11, Thresh, I've learned his name is, leaves. We had extended an offer to join the Careers to him, but he flat out refused. This infuriated Cato, and annoyed me, but I could understand why he said no. It typically comes down to the Careers and there's always a long drawn out fight then. It might be easier to simply stay by yourself and hope for us to kill each other.

I walk in and see the Gamemakers' long banquet style table along one side of the room, filled with food and drink. They stop talking as I come in. "Clove, District 2", I say. They have all of the stations that were in the gym, but I only need one. I approach the targets, both human and the plain white with red circles. I pick up a few and hurl them one after another at the human shaped one. Head, heart, stomach. All hitting the center of the marked areas.

Just for the hell of it, I throw two knives at the plain target and watch as they hit it side by side, parallel in the bulls-eye. They nod impressed. I'm not done quite yet though. I pick up a final knife and aim it directly at the bulls-eye which I've already hit twice. I throw. The knife lands precisely in between the two already thrown knives and a few of the Gamemakers gasp. I smile to myself. This is nothing new to me.

I give a slight bow and turn out the door again. "Well?" he asked. "Went brilliantly", I brag as I head into the elevator.

That night, the scores are broadcast on television. District 1 first, with Glimmer and Marvel both pulling nines. Then us. Cato's shown first, his picture appearing on the screen with a number 10 beside it. Not much of a surprise there. He grins at me and I motion to the screen. My picture's there now, also with a 10. I laugh at him as his expression falls a bit.

Then there's the District Fours, the girl with a nine and the boy with an eight. The girl from 5 manages to pull an eight as well, making me wish I'd mentioned her to the others earlier. Then the Elevens, Thresh with a nine and miraculously, his tiny district partner with a seven.

And finally the District Twelves. The strong blonde boy gets an eight, not bad, but good enough. When the next picture, of the girl from 12, is broadcast and I read the number next to it, I'm sure I'm reading it wrong, or that they mixed up numbers with one of the other tributes. But, no, because the others see it too. An 11. Higher than all of us.

"How did she manage _that_?" I ask incredulously. Cato kicks over a lamp, shattering the bulb in it. I'm furious too, but I know how to control my temper. "Calm down!" I say. "How the hell did she get a score higher than us? You were supposed to be watching the others, why didn't you catch that?" he yells back. I narrow my eyes at him.

"First of all, we were BOTH told to watch the other tributes, it's not my fault that you weren't paying attention. Second of all, I _was _watching her. She and that blonde boy didn't look very talented at anything, so obviously she must have been hiding something. That's not my fault. And third of all," my mouth twists into a smile, "there'll be plenty of chances to get her in the arena".

The next morning I'm allowed to blissfully sleep in, wake up when I want, and enjoy breakfast alone in my room. Since the training scores have been announced there's no need to go back down to the Training Center unless you want more practice. I'm confident with my abilities, so I stay in my room most of the day. There's not much point of going out to the other rooms, since I don't feel much like talking to anyone least of all the mentors or Cato.

I eat my delicious breakfast of assorted fruits in silence, munching a peach and savoring in the taste. It'll be a drastic change, going from the Capitol's rich foods to whatever food they throw in the arena.

But before long, it's time for the tribute interviews with Caesar Flickerman. My prep team and Maraine enter the room unannounced. They pull out the dress I'll be wearing and I notice it's quite different than the previous outfit. It's a long purple dress, not just one shade of purple but many. It progressively gets lighter from the bottom hem up; inky dark purple at the bottom lightening to indigo at the waist, than fading to a soft lilac at the top.

It seems like I'm wearing an ocean of colors, swishing and shimmery as I move around in it. It's rather clingy, until the bottom when it flares out impressively. Unfortunately, as people will be seeing my feet this time, I'm put into ridiculous black four inch heels, it'll be a miracle if I can walk in.

They put various earrings and necklaces up to my face, but I refuse them all. I don't want to be loaded down by jewelry. They do my hair in much the same style as for the opening ceremonies, but they sprinkle it with light sparkles that will shine in the heavy spotlights. They make up my eyes much like it too, but replace the heavy black eyeshadow with a silver shimmery one. My lips are painted in a clear gloss and I'm pulled to the mirror.

I look...impressive. Not as dramatic as I did for the opening ceremonies, more sophisticated than that. I can recognize myself in the mirror, at least. I decide that while the first costume was insanely intimidating and commanded the attention of everyone who saw it, I like this one better. I look older, taller, like someone who attend one of the elegant cocktails parties given by the richest families in District 2. Maraine stands in front me. "You do possess a certain...grace", is all she says to me, before the prep team deposits me in the elevator and I'm sent off.

In the studio, I join the group of tributes clustered off-stage waiting to be called. Glimmer gives me an appraising nod, before she flounces out on stage to wild applause. She was playing up her looks again, in a white practically see-through dress that clung tightly to her body and even higher heels than mine showing off her long legs. I shove Cato aside, as I'll be going before him.

He's in a gray suit with a black shirt, similar colors to the ones we wore in the opening ceremonies. In my shoes I'm closer to his height which pleases me. I'm constantly the short one among the careers. "Well?" I ask. "You're still not as tall as me". "I don't know if you've noticed, but no one's as freakishly tall as you", I say rolling my eyes.

"Fogetting about height, you look...", he gives me an appraising look, "good". I raise my eyebrows. "Same to you". Marvel goes up in his bright blue suit as Glimmer prances away to take a seat in the audience. I fall silent until my turn comes. Somehow I make my way up the stage and into a chair across from Casear Flickerman, who offers his hand. I shake it sturdily.

"So, Clove. Let's start with an easy one. How'd you pull that 10 in training?" he asks. "Well, if I told you that, there wouldn't be many surprises left for the Games, would there?"I raise my eyebrows at him. "Going to keep us waiting in suspense, are you?" he smiles at the audience. "Good thing you don't have long to wait".

"And what about that costume at the opening ceremonies? I'm sure I wasn't the only person to think you were simply magnificent", he says, "Was I?" and the audience yells back. "All thanks to my stylist, Maraine", I motion to her in the crowd and the camera does a close up. We continue talking for a bit, until the end when he says, "Well, it's been a pleasure Clove, and we're all looking forward to seeing you in the Games tomorrow". "Pleasure talking to you, Caesar", and click-clack off-stage in my ridiculous shoes.

I sit off to the side of the stage in my dress and heels, wishing I could go upstairs and wipe it all off. I sit through Cato's interview, which mainly consists of him advertising his killing abilities. The District Fours go, not saying much of anything, and I tune the rest out lost in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness. I stay there until the gasp of the audience pulls me back to attention. I look at the stage, it's the boy from 12's turn.

"And did she know how you felt about her?" Caesar Flickerman is asking. What did he say to make everyone gasp? "No", the boy says. I see one of the cameras zoom toward the girl from 12 in her fiery dress, and the expression on her face. "Wouldn't you love to pull her back up here and get her response", the audience breaks out in cheers at this. "Sadly rules are rules and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Best of luck to you, Peeta", Caesar says as the anthem plays and the tributes are sent out.

Hmm. That's interesting. One of the tributes in love with another. It'll only serve to make him weak in the arena though, I think as Algerion and Calesse shuffle us into the elevator and back to our floor. I wipe off the eyeshadow and eyeliner, the lip gloss and sparkly powder. There. I'm just me again.

Still in my long dress, I kick off my heels and walk back to the living room. I sit on one of the couches and say, "Well? Any last words of advice?" to the two mentors. "Get your hands on the most weapons and food you can find. Look for water", Algerion says. "I guess this is goodbye then", I say as I head back to my room.


	6. Let the 74th Hunger Games Begin!

You would think I wouldn't have slept at all, but I slept easily, dreaming of nothing. I hardly ever dream anymore. I'm shaken awake by Maraine that morning and told to change into the clothes she offers me. The black jacket is waist-length and insulated, she tells me, as I slip into the black pants and red shirt that were laid out.

I grab the jacket and put it on along with a pair of light, black boots. These are the only clothes I'll get in the arena. Maraine pulls my hair back into a ponytail and holds out the silver ring. My token. The only thing of my own I'll get to have in the arena.

We go down in the elevator for the last time and I'm taken off alone to the hovercraft that will transport the tributes to the arena. I step aboard to see many of the other tributes already seated alongside one another, most with grim expressions. Cato's already there, seated by Marvel and the boy from 4.

I take the empty seat at the end, by the girl from 12, the one her district partner was in love with. Katniss, I think her name was. I sit and stare at nothing, until the hovercraft starts moving and we're lifted up into the sky. A lab technician comes around to us all and shoots us in the arm with a large needle. As she comes to me she says, "This is just your tracker for while you're in the arena. It doesn't hurt much". I can tell she's lying by the way many of the other kids are clutching their arms in pain.

She shoots the needle into my arm, and I was right, it does hurt. But I make my face into a mask of expressiolessness and say nothing. To show pain would be to show weakness, something I can't afford right now. The hovercraft ride is over quickly and we're seperated again, into our own individual launch rooms.

It's funny to think I will be the only one to ever use this room again. Maraine stays with me, even though I don't need the moral support. We say nothing, but I'm thinking, strategizing what my plan will be.

I have allies, something that already gives me an advantage. In the Games, you can be the hunter or you can be the hunted. I've already decided to be the former. I'm put into the small glass tube and am instantly claustrophobic. I hate enclosed spaces, always have. They make me feel suffocated. But the platform's rising and, for what it's worth, I shrug at Maraine as she waves.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 74th Annual Hunger Games begin!" I hear Claudius Templesmith's voice over some invisible speaker. Then the countdown starts. There's the Cornucopia, filled with weapons and packs. There's a lake to the right, forest to the front and back. I can barely make out a river in the distance.

Glimmer's to my right, and I can see Marvel somewhere in the middle and Cato over to the side. I'm directly in front of the Cornucopia, an advantage. "5,4,3,2", I brace myself to run. "1". I'm over my platform in a second, running as fast as I can to the Cornucopia. Others are there too, but many have already run away.

I scramble for the knives that I see glinting near a tent pack and snatch up a few of them. I turn and see Marvel just approaching along with the District Fours. A boy, one of the ones from Nine I think, is fighting with someone over a backpack. I aim the first knife at him and hear it whistle through the air as it finds its target.

The person he was fighting with, the 12 girl, pales as she sees me aim my next throw. But she blocks herself just in time with the pack she's managed to collect from the Cornucopia. Damn. She races away, and as much as I'd like to, I know its not worth it to run after her.

I turn back into the fight, grabbing up a few more knives as I go. Though some ran, more stayed to fight for the supplies foolishly. Glimmer's found a gorgeous sparkling silver bow and silver tipped arrows among the weapons and is shooting them into the approaching tributes. Whether any of them managed to find their mark I don't know, because I'm watching as Thresh runs in and grabs one of the packs.

I debate going after him, maybe trying to fight him, but that's not a battle I want to get into now without any help. He's twice my size and though he doesn't have any weapons, I'm pretty sure he doesn't need them.

We fight for a long time until finally the remaining tributes have either fled or been killed. I sit on top of one of the packs, exhausted, but exhilarated. "Someone count how many", Cato orders as he looks through the packs left. There's quite a few, enough food and weapons to last for a long time. Four sits up and starts counting the bodies on the ground. "10", she announces. "11", I correct her pointing to her fallen district partner.

She falters for a second than tries to collect herself. "Oh", is all she says, but I can tell it hurts her more than she lets on. I don't think that she and the boy even really knew each other all that well, but he was a part of her home. I eyed Cato. Wouldn't mind losing him.

There's a rustling in the bushes nearby and I see the District 12 boy step out. Glimmer raises her bow, but Marvel stops her. I raise my eyebrows at him. "I just wanted to know if I could join up", he says, hands held up. Cato raises his sword. "Wait", I tell him. "Let him join", Marvel says. "Since when do you give the orders?" Cato says, sword still raised.

"Come here", I grab his arm and yank him off to the side which takes considerable effort. "Look, Lover Boy could be of some use to us", I tell him. "How?" "He could lead us to _her. _If what all he said last night was true. If not, it'd be harmless to keep him around and you can kill him when you get bored", I point out. "You'd better be right". He pulls away. "Fine", he tells the others. _Someone _has to be the logical one here.


	7. Flame

We move off, all of us carrying as many packs and weapons as we can. Another advantage to having Lover Boy around is that he can carry quite a bit more than either Glimmer or I can, and he more than makes up for it. We've all taken to calling him Lover Boy, me because I can't even remember his real name and the others, simply because its fitting.

It doesn't really matter what we call him, he'll be dead soon anyway. He must know that. And yet he stays. Obviously he's getting something out of this arrangement too, what it is I don't know yet. But it makes me watch him carefully.

We put out our many assorted items down by the lake. I rifle through the packs I'd been carrying and come up with an insulated sleeping bag, a tent, plenty of crackers and beef jerky, a bottle of iodine, night-vision goggles, a water container filled with clean water, many boxes of matches, and even a fold out pillow. Not a bad haul.

It's getting dark so we start setting up. Four tents between us, and enough sleeping bags for all of us. I pile the water bottle, iodine, and food into the pack again, and carefully place the knives I took in as well. But I keep one with me, just in case. I don't know who would be stupid enough to try to attack us now but best to be prepared.

Somehow it works out the since there's only four tents, Marvel and Lover Boy will have to share, and so will Glimmer and Four. Cato, of course, gets one to himself and I force Four to share with Glimmer since if I were forced to share a tent with her, I'd probably kill her. Night's fallen, but I feel far from tired. And apparently the others feel the same.

Four's pacing around the edge of the lake and Marvel sharpening the spear he'd collected from the Cornucopia furiously, though it doesn't need sharpening. The anthem bursts out into the night, startling us all, and the Capitol seal appears in the sky. The dead tributes begin appearing in the sky, most of them we already know however.

The girl from 3, than the boy from 4, whose name I never did learn. The boy from 5. The girl with the red hair lived then, I knew she was smart. Both from 6, both from 7, and the boy from 8. Both from 9 and the girl from 10. The Capitol seal comes back and the anthem fades, and we all go back to our seperate frenetic activities

When Marvel suggests we keep searching for more tributes, Cato agrees and then off we all go. Most of them bring only their weapons. I bring along three of my knives, but I stash a packet of crackers into my jacket pocket. Who knows when we'll be back. Four's left behind to guard the camp. We start for the forest, searching through the trees, making almost no noise as we step on the soft ground.

My eyes adjust to the night sky, as I think that I should have brought along the night vision glasses. Then we see it. Smoke rising in a small column, about a mile away. How stupid could you possibly get, making a fire at night? The Games are as much about intelligence as they are about skill. And this person apparently has neither.

We run faster now at the sight of it and are upon the small makeshift fire in a minute. The girl who sits by the fire screams at the sight of us and I imagine we do look intimidating as the light from the fire illuminates our faces. I move forward, grasping the delicate glass handle of a knife. Cato stops me. "It would be my pleasure", he says swinging his sword.

The girl screams again, one of pain, rather than fear this time and we move along. "Twelve down, eleven to go", Marvel whoops. We all laugh, but I don't point out the fact that six of those eleven are us. Five of us will have to die for one to be the victor. I don't dwell on this though and we move on having found no useful supplies on the girl.

We walk forward, at a slower pace this time until I say, "Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" "I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from moving in immediately", Marvel answers, quickly proving himself to be one of the smarter Careers. "Unless she isn't dead", I say. "She's dead. I stuck her myself", Cato argues. "Then where's the cannon?" I ask. "Someone should go back", Glimmer agrees.

"We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!" Lover Boy bursts out, surprisingly. So he is turning out to be a help. "Go on then, Lover Boy, see for yourself", Cato says, still holding the now bloody sword. He goes back through the woods to the spot where the faintest drift of smoke is still floating in the sky.

While he's gone, Cato hisses, "Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" "What's the harm? Let him tag along", Marvel says. "And he's handy with that knife". I stiffen at that. If anyone's going to be praised on their skills with a knife it's me. Still, I'm on his side in this argument. "Besides he's our best chance of finding her", I point out.

"Why? You think she bought into that sappy romance stuff?" Cato asks, scoffing. "She might have. Seemed pretty simpleminded to me", Glimmer answers. "Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke", Marvel laughs. "Wish we knew how she got that eleven", I think out loud. "Bet you Lover Boy knows". Lover Boy comes back up from the trees, putting a knife away.

"Was she dead?" Cato asks him. "No. But she is now". The cannon booms overhead as he finishes speaking and we move off.

I awaken the next day, refreshed from the long sleep. I'd gotten the others to give me the first shift of watching the camp which meant I could go to sleep and not worry about being woken up in the middle of the night. My tent is zipped closed, my knife still lying next to my sleeping bag. My clothes are still relatively clean, so I pull my hair loose of its ponytail and unzip the tent flap.

Most of the others are awake, but I don't see Glimmer. Probably trying to get as much "beauty sleep" as she can. I eat some of the crackers for breakfast, not really wanting to eat much more. I notice that they all look a bit more disheveled too, sitting around the makeshift fire pit that isn't lit. Yesterday it never got very cold until the night, when I was glad to have the insulated tent and sleeping bag.

"I'll go wake up Glimmer", I offer. They shrug. I unzip her and Four's tent to see her still sleeping soundly. I'm more than happy to smack her lightly across the face to wake her up and when I do she leaps up startled. "Get up. We're heading out soon", I tell her, before climbing back out of the tent.

We grab our weapons and leave the camp unguarded, probably an unwise decision, but we need everyone with us this early in the day. We stay together most of the time, until my ears catching a noise in the distance. We're about halfway up the mountain, and this sounds almost like...crackling.

Like- I smell the acrid stench of smoke before I see the wall of fire descending from the top of the mountain. "Move!" I yell to the others, before racing away myself. It's tricky, running as fast I can down the mountain, barely able to move fast enough to avoid the balls of fire that come shooting out of the wall every so often.

Somewhere in the frantic race, we're seperated from one another. I trip and fall, bracing myself for the flames to engulf me. When they don't, I look up to see the wall has vanished, leaving nothing but smoke behind. I cough loudly and grip my water bottle, gulping some down. That helps. I stand, my legs still a bit shaky from my first near-death experience of the Games, and call out, "Cato? Marvel?"

The words come out raspy and end in a slew of coughs, but I get a response. "Clove!" I hear Glimmer call out from my left. I run, slowly, over to her and I see Cato with her. She had it worse than I did, with a few scorch marks on the side of her jacket and I notice her boots are slightly singed.

She's coughing loudly too and I offer her my water bottle. She passes it to Cato, who practically drains the whole thing. "Glimmer!" I hear yells from a bit farther down. Marvel and Four. "We're here!" I yell back. They march back up, looking fine, but weary. "Did you have water?" Four asks eyeing the empty bottle. "_Someone _drank it all", I look directly at Cato, "So no, not anymore".

"There must be a pond or a spring around here somewhere. The animals have to be getting their water from a source other than the lake and the river", Marvel says.

We go back up the hill, searching for water. None in sight. As we approach a larger pine tree, Glimmer shoves me. I move to shove her back, but she points up. There, among the branches of the tree, perched like a bird, is the girl from District 12. Katniss, I think. We stare at her. She stares at us. No one says anything.

She smiles down at us, "How's everything with you?" she calls. "Well enough", Cato answers. "Yourself?" "It's a bit warm for my taste", she smirks. Obviously she was caught in the fire as well, I can see her jacket's been cut and her leg's held up like it pains her.

"The air's better up here. Why don't you come up?" she's baiting him, something that's all too easy to do. But he falls for it and says, "I think I will". "Here, Cato", Glimmer offers him her silver bow and arrows, but he brushes it aside. "I do better with my sword".

He climbs and I roll my eyes as she keeps going too. She's so small, it's easy for her to leap up from branch to branch. He gets about thirty feet before the branch cracks and he comes falling back to the ground hard. Cato pushes himself back up, swearing. Glimmer tries next but steps when she hears the branches cracking under feet.

She tries shooting an arrow, but it lands in the tree and Katniss pulls it out, waving it around. I know I'd never be able to throw one of my knives to that far up. Finally Lover Boy says, "Let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning".

"Not so in love with her as you might have people think, hmm, Lover Boy?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow. We fall asleep beneath the tree, leaving Glimmer on guard.


	8. Tracker Jacker Poison

I wake to pain. My eyes fly open as I take in the swarm of tracker jackers flying around our heads. I scramble to my feet to see the others have already started running. "The lake!" Marvel yells as I race down the last bit of hill, my leg burning from the two tracker jacker stings I sustained there.

My vision is blurry and I'm dizzy. But still I keep running, slowly, but I do it. I can vaguely hear the sound of a cannon firing, the sound distorted, and for a moment I think its for me. I collapse at the foot of the hill and I think, this is not how I want to die, as I black out.

But as the real world fades away, the nightmares come fast. I see my father raising his hand to smack me, throwing his empty bottles of white liquor. I see my mother dying again in front of me, her body wasting away to nothing. I see my own knives slice me into a million pieces and drown in a pool of blood.

Every time one of the terrors ends, another one takes it place. I scream, or at least it feels like I do, until my voice is gone. That's how the venom works. Every darkest nightmare. Every worst fear. The things that hide in the corner of your mind, where you put them away, because you couldn't possibly bear to think about them anymore. All of it comes forward.

When finally it ends, I open my eyes to find myself lying on the grassy ground next to our camp. Someone must have brought me here, because the last thing I remember is the hard soil of the forest beneath my feet.

I carefully pull myself up to a sitting position, stopping when the pain in my leg is too much. I see no one and the passing thought that I could be the only Career left alive takes place in my mind. But no, Marvel is sitting near the water of the lake, probably on guard. He doesn't look too bad, but for a huge lump on the side of his right arm. I inspect the damage of my own leg.

Two lumps on my left leg, not as large as the one Marvel has, but plenty painful. I wince as I pull out the stingers left from the tracker jackers. My mouth has a foul metallic taste and is incredibly dry so call out to him, my voice still raspy. He turns and says, "Oh. You're finally awake. We thought you were dead for a while, but when there wasn't a cannon.." he trails off. We, he said. So we're not the only ones left alive.

"Where", I break off to gulp the water Marvel's gives me, "Where are the others?" "Glimmer and Four are dead". I stop drinking for a moment. "Oh". So much like the "oh" that Four gave when she found out her district partner was dead. It doesn't hurt exactly. I can't say I knew them well enough for it to hurt. It comes as more of a shock than anything else.

"Lover Boy ran off to try to save the girl from 12. Cato got him in the leg before he could do much of anything, but he managed to drag himself off. And _she_ got away again", Marvel finishes with contempt. "We haven't heard a cannon, but I'd imagine he'll be dead soon".

"Where's Cato?" "He's asleep", is all Marvel says and as he does, I notice that the sun is just setting in the sky. "How long was I unconscious for?" I ask him. "A couple of days". Days? No wonder I feel so awful. I take the crackers and apple he offers me, even though I don't feel much like eating. So. Two dead and one gone. Three of us left.

In some ways it's a good thing. Less obstacles in the way to winning. In others, it means we pose less of a threat to the remaining tributes, whoever they are. "Better go get him up so he can eat", Marvel mutters. A few seconds later, Cato comes angrily out of his tent. "See you've finally stopped screaming in your sleep. Got annoying". I reach instinctively for a knife, but find nothing.

"Where did you put my knife?" I accuse them. "Took it away. You'd probably have sliced your stomach open the way you were thrashing around", he says in between bites of jerky. He had a point, something I didn't acknowledge. To be honest, I'm surprised he even noticed I still had my knife on me. Marvel might have. But not Cato.

I rise to my feet, steadily enough. "What are you doing?" Marvel asks. "I just need to walk for a bit", I say, picking up the crystal-handled knife from where they'd left it on the ground and another wooden-handled one. And so I walk away, leaving them with bemused expressions on their faces.

I just needed silence. Sometimes it feels like my brain is about to overload, thoughts and information just run so quickly through it. And I need silence to process through it all. I walk for a long while, up through the woods, higher and higher, until I stop and sit. Obviously, it's going to be harder to hunt now, since we can't leave the camp unguarded all day. It'll be difficult for us to go during the day with just two people. We need a better system than that.

Among the trees, I hear a crack, like a foot stepping on a branch. I'm on my feet in an instant. I peer through the trees and then race forward, clutching both of knives in my hands. In a second, I'm in front of the boy. He's not much younger than me, fifteen or fourteen maybe. The idiot has no weapons though.

He scrambles back ward frantically when he sees me. I remember his picture in training. District 3. Low score. I grab his shirt and pull him up, my knife at his throat, when I stop. We might have a use for this boy. District 3, the technology and explosives district. And we have all the right tools for it at the camp. "Could you build a land mine if we wanted to protect something?" I ask him, drawing a light cut across his face. He nods frantically.

"Here's what I'm going to do", I speak slowly, making sure he's listening. "I'm going to take you back to our camp. You are going to build a land mine to protect our supply of food. And, for now, I won't kill you. Understood?" He nods again. "Come on", I grab his shirt and half-drag him back down the way I came.

We arrive back at the camp to a startled Marvel who raises his spear half-heartedly. "Who's this?" "District 3. He's going to build a..security system, shall we call it, for the supplies". Cato stands and grabs the kid around then neck. "One wrong move.." he trails off menacingly.

The kid, terrified now, asks quietly, "What do you have for me to work with?" Marvel takes him over the many assorted weapons and supplies that we've amassed and Cato sits again. "Are just going to let anyone who wants to join us?" he asks.

"Look, we needed someone to watch the camp when we leave and he can do it with an added benefit. Anyone who tries to steal anything will get blown up. You know I'm right", I tell him. He shrugs, but I can tell he knows I am.


	9. Landmines

Over the next few days, the District 3 boy builds an impressive system for us. He piles up the supplies that we don't need ready access to underneath a large net and nails it in place. Then he builds landmines in the ground around it, so if anyone steps on the wrong place on their way to steal supplies, they'll be blown away.

It's impressive, but it means if we need something from the supplies, only District 3 or I can get it, since we're the smallest. I can just imagine Cato trying to lightly step on the right sequence of steps.

We begin hunting again today, scouring the woods for tributes. I mentally try to count up those left; me, Marvel, Cato and District 3 make four. Katniss and Lover Boy are six. The District 5 girl with the red hair hasn't been shown in the sky either. Thresh, and the small girl from 11 too, I realize. Nine. Nine left.

We heading for the river when we a loud noise stops us all in our tracks and leaves our ears ringing. I realize it the same time they do and race back the way they came. Obviously someone's set off the explosives.

We run for the lake quickly, but by the time we get there, most everything's gone. District 3 tosses a rock in to make sure that they've all gone off. They have.

Cato reacts without thinking as he does so often. The boy's dead in a second and the cannon booms. One less person to worry about killing. That's how I've begun to think. A dead person isn't a dead person, it's just one less person that I myself have to kill. One less obstacle in the way to winning.

Marvel and I sort through the wreckage trying to find something to salvage, but there's nothing really. Cato's still in a rage and he turns on me, "You! This was your idea!" "Well at least I had an idea! As opposed to you, who just _pretends_ to lead us around. You haven't done anything to benefit us since we started!" His eyes flare.

"Having no ideas is better than having ones that leave us worse than when we started! Especially since there isn't even a body to show for it". I grab my knife, but Marvel stops me. "Enough! Calm down, both of you! Just because there isn't a body now doesn't mean whoever set it off wasn't killed instantly in the explosion. We probably just missed hearing the cannon in the noise".

It takes an enormous amount of willpower, but I back down. I'm pretty sure if Marvel hadn't been here however, we would have killed each other. Neither of us like to be wrong and we both have tempers. The difference is I know how to control mine. I survey what's left. The tents, those were far enough away as to be saved.

The knives I placed in there, just in case. The food in my pack along with the night vision goggles. Enough, but not enough to last us forever. "Come on, no point sticking around here. We may as well keep looking before night", Cato says. We split up, and this time I put the extra knives into my pack as well. I don't want anyone stealing them now that we have no one left to guard the camp.

I go a different way than through the woods this time. I cut across the Cornucopia field, past the still-raised platforms. Beyond it is a wheat field and while it's doubtful that anyone could be hiding there, my mind still goes to the remaining tributes and their possible locations.

The District 5 girl who could be anywhere at this point. Katniss, who's most likely still in the forest. Lover Boy who's probably dying on the ground somewhere. The tiny girl from 11 could be anywhere too, but its so unlikely that she could do anything to me, I forget about her. However thinking of her brings my mind back around to a far more worrisome adversary; Thresh. And that's what makes me pause.

In the whole Games I've only seen him once, at the Cornucopia. We've been scouring the woods for days but have only seen Katniss and Lover Boy. And wheat fields, so similar to those of the agriculture district, 11. If anyone were to be in those fields, it would be him. More than just the logic, there's just a premonition I have about it. I'm never one to back down from a fight, but I'm not stupid.

I'd never be able to kill Thresh alone, not with my height. I might be able to get a knife in him, if I were at a far enough away distance. But there's a good chance he'd be able to sneak up on me and with that advantage I'd never get out alive.

As I ponder this, a cannon booms in the distance. I take this as my cue to turn and run back to camp. The first cannon is shortly followed by another. It's probably too much to hope for that was Katniss. I don't want to admit it, but she's smart. Smart enough to outwit someone like Cato for example.

It could have been the tiny girl from 11 or the District 5 girl. Probably not Thresh, if my theory about his location is right. But it could have easily been Lover Boy. Or it could have been Marvel or Cato. Somehow, I hope it wasn't either of them since I've actually come to like Marvel and I can tolerate Cato. But at the same time, it would make it easier for someone else to kill them, then for it to come down to us.

I make it to the camp to find Cato already there. That rules out one possibility. I raise my eyebrows at him. "Wasn't me. I didn't find anyone". "Neither did I", I say which is technically true. I didn't _see_ anyone. We wait for a long time. Marvel doesn't come back. Eventually the Capitol anthem plays and his picture is broadcast in the sky, followed by the tiny girl from 11's. I sigh, heavily.

Nothing to do about it now. But he was the only Career I'd begun to consider my friend. At least we know he managed to take someone down with him. I'm left with Cato, who I eye dubiously. Not exactly friends, not exactly rivals. When we're not screaming at each other, he's not so bad. In the back of my mind though, I know that eventually one of us will end up killing the other. And its a thought that stays with me.


	10. Becoming Friends

That night I slept fitfully, falling asleep, than waking up again, and repeating the process more times than I can count. When the sun begins to rise, I'm grateful to have an excuse to get up. I consider pulling my hair back, but at the last moment decide to leave it down. It doesn't make a difference what I look like to the cameras of Panem.

I unzip the tent flap and grab some of the beef jerky out of the remaining food bag. After a while of waiting I go into Cato's tent and shake his arm, eventually just kicking him, until he wakes up.

Four tributes left, not counting us. Time to start searching. "Get up", I tell him. He does and I survey the arena. I'd like to keep searching for Katniss, and it's likely Lover Boy and District 5 are in there too. Still, my gaze keeps being drawn in by the wheatfield, innocently blowing in the wind. I'm almost certain we should take the offensive and go in there to find Thresh.

"Let's try over there today", I point it out to him. "Who would hide in a wheatfield?" I'm about to answer when he says, "And besides, I would have thought you'd want to find District 12". He's right, I do. I want her to die a slow death at my hands. If only for killing so many of us, so easily it seems. Glimmer, Four, probably Marvel too, have all been killed by her hands.

So, against my better judgement, I agree. We head for the river this time, searching for any tribute we can, but most especially her. If we're lucky we'll find Lover Boy, who quite frankly, I'm amazed has hung on this long. But though we search for hours, we find no one. The sun starts to set in the sky and I say, "We should head back. There's no one out here". He agrees and we go back to camp.

After a dinner of crackers and apples, which was hardly enough, I lie down on the ground to watch the Capitol seal appear in the sky. No new deaths. Not a surprise considering that none of the other tributes have really been playing on the offensive. From what I can tell, they're mostly just trying to outlast the others. As the Capitol anthem stops playing, a voice is broadcast.

Claudius Templesmith, saying, "Congratulations, remaining tributes, for your success thus far in the games. I would like to announce a rule change in the Games! Under this new rule both tributes from the same district will be allowed to win! I repeat, both tributes from the same district will be allowed to win if they are the last two remaining".

I freeze. I replay what he just said in my mind to make sure he really said it. Up until now, the thought that I'd have to kill Cato at some point, or break the alliance and hope for someone else to get him has never left my head. But now I don't need to worry about that apparently.

I cast my eyes over to where he sits and find him standing back. "So I guess we're _really_ allies now", I say without thinking. "So it would seem", he says. I stand to dampen out the fire and say, "I'm going to sleep", turning to go back to my tent.

I do my usual routine of tucking away the food and zipping the tent, but tonight I leave the second flap down, allowing the sky to be visible through the mosquito netting. And I realize that not once since I've gotten picked at the reaping have I looked at the sky and seen the stars. That night, I dream. For the first time in what feels like years, I dream, of floating in the velvety blue sky among the stars.

I'm not sure if it was the dream that caused my deep sleep or the fact that I was incredibly tired, but the next morning I find it's me being shaken awake. I blink blearily, and my eyes try to focus on Cato's face above mine.

"Okay, sorry. I'm awake", I say, unusually calm for having been woken up. I hate being woken up; I'm not a morning person. I step out of the tent, pulling on my boots. I yawn, before munching down on the apple, our last. "We should really try to find food today". "Where?" he asks. "You know, hunt", I sigh.

I've never hunted before in my life, but we only have a bit of beef jerky and an a loaf of bread left. I consider the available weapons we have left. A bow and arrow would be best, but those were probably removed from the arena on Glimmer's body.

"And we'll have to make snares, too". Luckily, I remember how to do this from the training sessions back in the Capitol. I grab my pack and fill the water bottle with water from the lake and put a few drops of iodine in. I take along the beef jerky and the bread too. No point in having that stolen as well.

We head up the mountain just off the river, figuring that that's probably the best place to wait for passing animals going to get water. I set up a few snares along one side and Cato goes along the other. Since there's nothing to do now but wait, I pull off my jacket and sit by the side of the river with my feet in the water. The day's swelteringly hot.

Eventually, he comes and sits next to me. Both of us have our weapons still, and I know that if anyone were to come and find us; Thresh, Katniss, even Five, we'd be unprepared. But just for a moment, I let all of it go out of my head and try to enjoy the feeling of the cold water.

Peacefulness, isn't something many tributes would say they felt in the arena, but this comes as close as anything. In a sudden burst of longing for normality, I cast my eyes to Cato to make sure he's distracted and kick my legs through the water, splashing him thouroughly. He raises his eyebrows as if asking, "Are you sure you want to start this?" and sends a huge splash, soaking through my shirt and pants, which I've cuffed up.

We go on with our water battle for a while, when a twig snaps in the distance. We both stop, alert. I grab for my knife, which I foolishly left abandoned. I haul myself out of the water and realize we must look like complete idiots to the rest of Panem. It's easy to forget the cameras are there, until you see them hiding in trees, poking out of rocks in the ground and suddenly you're very self aware.

I turn and see Cato standing on the side of the river. I can't help laughing, he looks so ridiculous. Soaked wet, hair all messed. I imagine I don't look much better myself though. And suddenly we're both laughing hard as we pull on our boots and I put on my jacket.

I yank my hair back from my face to stop the droplets of water from dripping in my eyes. "Come on", I laugh, before finally making myself stop and take notice of my surroundings. We're in the woods with at least three people out there who want to kill us (I don't count Lover Boy).

And anyone of them could be anywhere. They could be watching us right now. Those thoughts make me straighten up and make an effort to walk quietly. I check the snares in the woods on the side of the river and find I've caught a rabbit. Not bad. Cato's got a squirrel in one of his, so we tromp back down the mountain as I realize the day's passed by quickly. The sun's quickly going down, about to start setting.

I skin the rabbit, then the squirrel, to make it clean for eating, and then roast them over the small fire we've made. We share them, and have a slice of bread each as well. Our clothes have mostly dried by now and as I push a strand of still damp hair back from my face, I consider that Cato and I could be friends


	11. An Invitation

And over the next few days, we do become friends, or at least we move beyond the not-speaking-to-each-other-unless-its-neccessary phase. I'm not going to say Cato's fun to be around all the time, but he can be funny when he wants to be and he knows when to leave me alone.

That day, we go out hunting, for food in addition to any tributes we might find. Checking snares has become a daily occurence for us. I check those on my side of the river and he checks his. I find a squirrel in mine and bird that must have landed and accidentally gotten caught. Not bad for one day, in fact, quite good.

I walk back to the river bank and see him already waiting for me, holding nothing but a tiny rabbit. "Oooh, impressive", I laugh. "Well, we can't all be champion animal catchers like you apparently are", he nods at my squirrel and bird. "I'm just especially gifted then", I roll my eyes and tuck strands of hair that've come loose from my ponytail back, only to have them blow forward again.

The wind's been blowing extremely heavily all day, making it a challenge to be able to see. We're heading down a steep portion of the slanting mountain now and as I turn to say something to Cato, my foot trips and I fall. I topple down the last bit of mountain and come to a stop at the bottom, knocking the wind out of me.

"You alright?" he asks, quickly stepping down the mountain after me. "Fine, just bruised", I sigh, brushing myself off, annoyed at my own clumsiness. But I take his hand when he offers it to me, something I don't usually do, if only to prove to everyone that I'm strong enough to take care of myself. The wind's still furiously blowing my hair around as it's come loose around my face from my roll down the hill. We're near camp now, but as I approach the site, I find that there's not really any camp left.

The tents have come loose in the wind and have blown out to the center of the lake. Along with whatever we'd left in them. I looked up at Cato and see he's got surprisingly, not an expression of rage, but of resignation. An improvement. "Did you leave anything important in yours?" I ask.

"Not really. A spear, a few other weapons. You?" "Some knives and a bit of leftover food from last night's dinner. Sleeping bag, pillow". I'd been cautious about putting at least three or four knives, my water bottle and the iodine, and the night vision glasses in my pack when we left during the day. But even so, this left us without shelter and with no means of protecting us from assault. Anyone could come right up and kill us in the middle of the night, with no warning.

He realizes it too, I can tell. "We can't go look for new shelter until tomorrow at least. It's getting dark already. We can stay here for tonight and look tomorrow", I offer. He agrees and we cook up our dinner. The Capitol anthem plays, but there's no pictures in the sky tonight. There haven't been in days.

My best guess is when Katniss heard the new rule, she went out to find Lover Boy and somehow's managing to keep him alive, that's why his picture hasn't been in the sky. I'm about ready to fall asleep on the ground, when trumpets blare, immediately startling me out of my deep sleep. Claudius Templesmith's voice comes blaring out.

He's inviting us to a feast. "There will be something there that each of you needs desperately". Protection. That's what we need desperately. If there's something there for us, we have to go. I should have guessed something like this would be happening soon. There hasn't been bloodshed for days, not since Marvel and the girl from 11, Rue, I think her name was.

Then I realize; Katniss will have to be there. I'm guessing what she needs most is medicine for Lover Boy. She'd risk it, to save him, most likely. "I assume we're going to go?" I tease. "Most definitely. It's time to speed our victory up a bit", is his response.

"Cato", I use my best pretty-pretty-please voice. "Can I have Katniss? I promise to cut her up extra special for you". He looks down at me skeptically and says, "No, she's mine". "Oh come on, I'll give the Capitol a show", I say. I jokingly bat my eyelashes, just to look ridiculous.

"Fine. But make it good". "I will", I promise. We work out a strategy. I'll go in for the backpack, kill Katniss and leave. Cato will stay in the trees surrounding the grassy field around the Cornucopia and go after any other tributes. Once it's all worked out, we fall asleep, on the grass, out in the open.

I wake in the middle of the night to find I'm sleeping curled into Cato's arm. _I_ _should move_, I think before I drift back off into sleep.


	12. The Space In Between

**_Hey guys,_**

**_Thanks for all the great reviews! But I'm really sad to say that this is the last chapter of the story. :( I might write another version, where they both live with more actual Clato. (I know, I didn't put a lot in this story) Still deciding on that, so let me know what you think. Anyway, I hope you like reading the last part of the story_****_, as bittersweet as it was for me to write. _**

That morning, I wake up, still curled into his arm and extract myself from it before he wakes up. I'd feel stupid if he caught me. I eat and then carefully put my knives into my jacket. Most days in the arena, I don't care about my hair, but today I pull it back tightly, out of neccessity, rather than vanity. I don't want my hair flying my face today.

I wake up Cato saying, "Ready?" He nods and eats the leftover squirrel from the night before. We head for the forest that skirts the Cornucopia field. No one else is in sight. The Cornucopia is still empty. "Remember the plan?" he asks. "Of course, I do. I came up with it", I scoff. "Carve her up good. And just...be careful, okay?" That was unexpected.

But as he says it, I realize I don't want to lose him either. Not just because I don't want to be alone in the arena, I could handle that. In fact, I do better on my own. But just because I don't want to lose him. I dismiss those thoughts from my head instantly though. Those kinds of things aren't going to help me concentrate.

Still, I say, "You too". He moves off to a different surveillance spot and I keep watching through the trees. A metal table rises up through a slot in the ground. Four backpacks rest on it with the numbers 2, 5, 11, and 12. And there's District 5, actually racing out of the Cornucopia, grabbing her backpack and running off into the woods.

I hear Cato racing after her through the woods and then I see her. Katniss running in to grab her own backpack off the table. I send a knife whistling through the air, which she hears coming and deflects with her bow. Glimmer's bow. Stolen off her body. That only enrages me more and the next knife I throw cuts a deep gash in her forehead. Even so, she manages to shoot an arrow that would have hit my head, if I hadn't deflected it, causing it to hit my arm.

But I keep going after her, pushing her over and onto the ground. "Where's your boyfriend, District 12? Still hanging on?" I goad her. "He's out there right now. Hunting Cato", she smirks. "Peeta!"

I punch her throat, cutting off her voice, but her words make me look around for a moment. I don't want to be caught off guard by Lover Boy. No one appears. "Liar", I laugh. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in a tree somewhere while you try to keep his heart going. What's in that pretty little backpack?" I ask, eyeing the tiny pouch she's holding with the 12 on it.

"Medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it". I open my jacket, displaying the many knives that I stashed there earlier. I grab a small one, about the size of a butter knife. But this has wickedly sharp edge, with a slight point on the end.

I push her down to the ground again, pinning her place as she desperately tries to get away. I'm far stronger though. "I promised Cato that if he let me have you I'd give the audience a good show". And suddenly I want so badly to hear her scream. To hear her pay for Four and Glimmer and Marvel.

She tries hard to move out of my grasp, but my hold on her is like iron. "Forget it, Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did with..what's her name? That pathetic litle ally of yours. The one who hopped around in trees? Rue?" Her eyes flash with rage and pain and I know I've hit on something that hurts her. "Well, first Rue, than you, and I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?"

I hold her face in place as I survey it. "Now where to start?" I wipe the blood from the knife wound I gave her earlier. She tries to bite at my hand, but I hold her back by her hair, pushing her back. "I think, we'll start with your mouth, hmm?" I trace the outline of her lips with the blade of the knife, laughing as I see her expression.

"Yes, I don't think you're going to have much use for them anymore. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?" She spits sticky saliva and blood across my cheek. I wipe it off, and say, "Fine. Let's get started". I make a small cut along the side of her mouth, tiny drops of blood falling from it when something yanks me back.

I scream as I'm dropped down hard on the grass. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?" Thresh asks menacingly. Though it hardly matters now, it appeared I was right to fear the wheatfields. I crawl backward quickly, saying, "No! No, it wasn't me!" "I heard you say her name. I heard you. You kill her? You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

"No!" I say. I take notice of the huge stone in his even larger hands. "Cato! CATO!" I scream as loudly as I possibly can. But it doesn't make a difference. The stone collides with my head and I fall down to the grass, silently.

The pain explodes in my head, like a small brain sized bomb going off. It's a strange feeling, this being suspended between life and death. Unable to get up and keep walking, but not quite dead yet. Like the moments right before you fall asleep, unmoving, unfocused, but still conscious.

"Clove!" I can hear him in the distance, his voice distorted, like I'm hearing it from underwater. I couldn't say what dredged up the memory, but I remember Cato saying, "Just be careful". I wasn't. It's ironic, in a way, being killed, not for one of the many deaths I did cause, but for one I didn't. And then he's there, crouched over me, spear still in one hand.

"Clove! Clove, come on, just hang on! We're going to win, we're going to be victors together!" But we're not. I know we're not, and I can accept that. Winning and not winning. It doesn't seem to matter now. "It's okay. You can still win. You can win for me", I whisper, matter-of-factly.

I don't wish for things to be different. I don't panic. I simply let the drowsiness I feel take over, and start to close my eyes. I can hear him still, "Clove, I-" For a moment I want to hang on, to have life left for just one more second, so I can hear what he says. But death isn't something you can tell to wait.

And I fall asleep to the sound of a cannon.


End file.
